I wish I could provoke you to write me a little Note about what you are doing, and how going on. One definite glimpse I had,
thro' Lord Ashburton last week: you were “better again, and out at Addiscombe,” he just going to join you,—he did not say whether you wd continue long. Nor in fact have I heard at all as I wanted: my poor Wife has been so extremely weak all this while; unable
to keep my small circle present to me in such measure as she was wont.

Of myself and my history I can say nothing; said “history” having been literally zero: “six weeks of nightmare sleep,” as I sometimes define it. I have ridden extensively on the waste Solway sands; thro' old
Scottish lanes, and wildernesses, full of old meaning to me: I have in general said nothing; felt and remembered only too
many things. Some tolerable Books I had;—of whh let me recommend two if you don't know them otherwise: Tourgueneff: Scènes de la Vie Russe & his Souvenirs d'un Chasseur (both full of Russian novelties, and both by a man of real faculty & worth),—and see that you get the right Translation (that is the last, just published)1 of these Souvenirs, for there is a wrong one.2 I also liked Béranger's Ma Biographie; and Mignet's Marie Stuart (so far as I have gone): but these two you probably know already.

I am speculating now about a run to Germany: four weeks, to see the Battlefields (at least) of an unfortunate King Fritz fallen to me unfortunate! But it is quite uncertain whether I dare undertake such
an adventure,—with the horrible remembrance of Trough-beds3 & German Etceteras still so vivid in me! So soon as the weather is cool enough, I hope to be back in London,—and that you will perhaps be in
Grosvenor Square4 again, accessible in the solitary season?—

Last time I quitted these parts it was on a certain Highland Journey:5 a thing never to be forgotten by me; nor ever to be repeated, I believe!— We have to take what a Higher is pleased to appoint,
in all things; and be silent,—not forbidden to hope. God bless you, dear Lady; and strengthen you for all the loads you have to bear.

I end by asking a little Note from you, the first day you have leisure. Yours every truly

5. TC's journey to Kinlochluichart, the Ashburtons' highland estate, nr. Dingwall, Aug. 1856. It was the last time he stayed with the Ashburtons before the death, May 1857, of Lady Harriet Ashburton, Lady Sandwich's da.